


[title tbc]

by cotton_socks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Holidays, Hotels, M/M, Skiing, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cotton_socks/pseuds/cotton_socks
Summary: Theon has spent the winter working at Winterfell hotel in Canada. But now the ski season is drawing to a close...





	[title tbc]

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Throbb Secret Santa 2018 for an unknown recipient for the prompt 'snow'.
> 
> I have to admit that I misremembered the date for the end of the posting period, thinking it was tomorrow, so I'm posting this part now, with part 2 (of 2) to follow within the next 24-48 hours.

Robb reads the sentence for a third time. It still doesn’t go in. He traces below the words with the end of his pencil, pausing at the punctuation. It’s no use; he just can’t follow the argument. He sighs, laying the pencil down the centre of the pages and closing the book over it.

He should have known it would be impossible to focus on studying today.

Looking around the bar-room for another distraction, Robb’s eyes skim over the empty chairs and tables, over the snowy scene outside the windows, and towards the opposite end of the room, attention drawn to the door there, the one with the brass nameplate reading ‘STAFF ONLY’. Behind there are the staff break room and the offices. Robb has never thought of the manager’s office - his father’s office - as intimidating before, and yet today...

Robb is startled by the sound of a very familiar cough, and looks around to see the double doors to the hotel’s grand lobby swinging shut behind Gyles Rosby and Lollys Stokeworth. They make their slow way across the short distance from the door to the bar; neither of them are particularly fit to begin with, and they are both bundled up in so many layers that they can do no better than a shuffle. Unlike others in their party, they aren’t into outdoor sports; while the rest of the Stokeworth family and their guests are out skiing, Gyles and Lollys enjoy Winterfell’s more sedentary pleasures: the hot pools, the mountain views, the glass gardens, the sleigh rides.

Robb is glad of any distraction, and hops off his stool behind the bar, moving to greet them cheerfully.

“Good morning to you too, Robb,” Gyles says. He turns his head and coughs into his handkerchief again. He’s had a bad chest for as long as Robb has known him, though he says that the steam from the hot springs at Winterfell help.

Robb smiles politely, and waits for the coughing fit to subside to ask, “What can I get for you today?”

“Oh, tea with honey and lemon for me,” Gyles says, tucking the handkerchief away, “And for the young lady -” He looks to his companion.

“Hot chocolate, please,” Lollys says shyly, looking gratified at being called young. Robb thinks she must be in her early forties, about twenty years older than himself, though much younger than frail old Gyles.

“Coming right up,” Robb declares, smiling. He moves towards the area for preparing hot drinks.

“We don’t often see you behind the bar, Robb,” Gyles says, conversationally, as he and Lolly take seats near where Robb is working. “Are the rest of the staff finished now?”

“Yeah,” Robb replies, mixing the steamed milk into the chocolate powder. He moves slightly to the side, so the staff door is hidden behind Lollys. _Out of sight, out of mind_ , or so he hopes. “The snow will begin to thaw soon, so the seasonal contracts are coming to an end. A few of the temporary staff may stick around for a little while, but the ski lifts will be closing within the next couple of days, and they usually all head off to find a job for the summer shortly after that. They’re usually all gone within two weeks.”

“So you’ll be down to a skeleton staff, then? Do you still get enough time to do your studying?”

“Oh, yes,” Robb says. “It’s pretty quiet around here in the summer, so I’m not needed much more than when we have a full staff.”

Occasionally, Robb wonders if it was the best idea to stay at home and do his degree part-time online. At the time he’d made the decision, he’d felt that his parents had needed him around to help with the hotel and the kids. But now Arya’s away in Sydney studying Sports Science, and Sansa has graduated before him. She returned home from Paris last summer, and has been working on building an online fashion brand ever since. Robb can see her through the doorway to the veranda right now, gloved fingers wrapped around a stylus as she works on her tablet.

Robb loves Winterfell, he really does. But sometimes ... sometimes it feels like he’s put his own life on hold.

He’s always surrounded by colleagues and customers from elsewhere, from other parts of the world. One day, he’d like to get out there and see a bit of it for himself.

Then again, if he hadn’t been in Winterfell this year… His eyes slip back over to the door at the back of the room.

As though reading Robb’s mind, Gyles suddenly asks, “And what about your friend? Is he staying to work over the summer?”

Robb feels blood rush to his cheeks. “Ah, Theon?” Robb asks, then flushes harded.

As if there is any doubt who Gyles is talking about.

He hadn’t really meant for his love-life to become common gossip - it’s not like he and Theon are even _official_ yet - but some of the regular guests have known him since he was a child, and judging by the good-natured ribbing he’s been receiving all winter, everyone who knows him has noticed that he’s smitten.

It’s just that Theon is so…..

He cuts that thought off when he realises he’s gazing off into the distance like a lovesick fool. Gyles is looking at him with crinkles all around his eyes, and Lollys is bobbing slightly in the way she does sometimes when she’s amused. Robb clears his throat, and returns rather pointedly to stirring honey into Gyles’s tea.

“Well, Theon’s last day of work was technically yesterday,” Robb says, as dispassionately as he can. “But as you’ve probably heard, Jory is moving to become the deputy manager of one of our other hotels soon, so there’s an opening here for a permanent duty manager. A few of the seasonal staff have applied.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” Gyles says. He draws his handkerchief out of his pocket and coughs into it again.

Lollys, bless her, looks like she doesn’t see at all, but is too timid to say so. Robb feels a little ashamed for not being clearer for her sake, but it feels too raw to lay it out any plainer than that.

“Why don’t you take the drinks outside and choose a table, dear, while I pay?” Gyles suggests to her, and Lollys obediently picks up the tray with their drinks on and goes out to the veranda. Gyles takes out his wallet and counts out his cash. “Well,” he says, handing the money over, “All the staff you’ve had here this winter have been fantastic: Theon, and Hal, and Quent, and all the rest of them! I’m sure whoever gets the job will do you proud.”

“Thank you,” Robb says in agreement, “I’m sure they will.” Gyles is right, they have had a particularly good bunch of people working here this winter. They’re hard workers, and great people besides. Under any other circumstances, Robb would be thrilled to have any one of them staying on at Winterfell permanently.

Gyles pats the back of Robb’s hand fondly, then moves away to follow Lollys. “If I don’t see you again before we leave, thank you for all you’ve done to make our stay enjoyable this winter, we’ve had a wonderful holiday - as we always do - and we’ll see you again next year! ... And just so you know, young man,” Gyles pauses then, right at the door to the balcony, and shoots him a sly wink, “we’re all rooting for you two.”

Then he smiles, and leaves before Robb can react.

Robb’s face is hot, his heart beating hard. He glances around the room, but the bar is empty again. Nobody’s even supposed to _know_ about him and Theon. Theon asked him to keep it secret, so Robb’s done his best, he hasn’t even told _Jon_ , but he’s been unable to disguise how happy he’s been this winter, and people have caught on.

Perhaps if Theon gets the job, Robb thinks to himself, he’ll let Robb tell people. Perhaps he’ll agree to be Robb’s boyfriend. Robb’s been wanting to make it official for months now, but Theon has had so many of these relationships before - he moves a lot for the work, and from his stories, it seems that he manages to find someone new to get cosy with in every town he goes to… Sometimes, Robb worries that he’s just another fling to Theon. And if his dad doesn’t give Theon this job...

Robb takes a steadying breath and reins his thoughts in. It’s no use speculating.

He will wait and find out if Theon’s got the job, and then they’ll have a talk.

They’ll figure it all out.

Robb tries to concentrate on his book, diligently taking notes in an attempt to engage with the subject, but his brain feels like a soupy mass, unable to properly process the words. He redoubles his efforts, trying not to think about his father’s office and the string of people he’ll be seeing today to let them know if they got the job.

There’s a clattering out of the veranda, and Robb looks up from his book to see the rest of the Stokeworth party arriving to join Gyles and Lollys, all pink-cheeked and wind-whipped, juggling poles and skis. A few of them start cheering and clapping, and Robb sees Sansa join in; just beyond, in the yard, Robb can see his little brother Rickon playing with Tommen Baratheon and a few more children, showing each other tricks with their snowboards. Robb smiles, glad Rickon is making the most of the few short hours he has left before his friends have to get on the coach back to the airport. They don’t get many customers over the summer, and Winterfell is so far from anywhere else, so isolated, up here in the mountains. It can get very lonely sometimes.

“Hey,” Says a voice from behind Robb, suddenly, “what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”

Robb spins around, and there’s Theon at the other end of the bar. Black hair flowing over his shoulders like a waterfall, he’s got a cocky smirk on his lips, and somehow he’s found a way to _lounge_ on a _barstool_.

Robb looks at him, and doesn’t think he’s ever been more in love than he is in that moment.

“Hey,” he says, recovering himself. He tries his best to be cool, but half-trips over his own feet making his way over. “Hey,” Robb says again, facing Theon across the bar.

“Hey,” Theon replies. His smirk has stretched out into a full-blown grin, his face warm and eyes enticing. “Can I get a ginger ale, hot stuff?” Theon asks, obviously enjoying being on the other side of the bar for a change. Winterfell is the kind of place where all the staff do a bit of everything, but Theon, being charming and extroverted, and having experience working in the nightlife industry in tourist towns like King’s Landing and Sunspear, had most often wound up working the evening entertainment shifts; neither of them had minded, as it allowed had allowed them long hours out on the slopes together during the day.

Robb rolls his eyes at Theon, and grabs him a bottle of ginger ale from the fridge, popping the cap off and handing it over. Theon drinks ginger ale a lot, and will never say no to a ginger cookie or gingerbread. He says the heat helps keep the chill of Winterfell at bay. Robb’s not sure if that’s true, or if Theon just takes every opportunity he can to make cheeky comments about Robb’s hair.

Theon had tasted of ginger, the first time they kissed. They had been near the top of a mountain, having hiked since dawn, and they had found a rocky ledge to sit on and shelter from the wind. All had been quiet, and the trees and snow had been laid out in the valley below them like in a painting. There was not another soul around for miles, and they had held each other close as they had kissed.

“Thanks man,” Theon says, his fingers brushing Robb’s as he reaches for the bottle. He takes a swig, and Robb admires his long, slender throat. “Good shift so far?”

“It’s been alright,” Robb replies, “a bit slow.”

“Yeah - I imagine most people are packing, or out for a last run on the slopes before they have to get the coach,” Theon says. “What time does it leave for the airport?”

 

“Noon,” Robb says. “Should get them out to town in time to catch the afternoon flights.”

Theon nods, and looks at the bottle, rolling it between his hands.

Robb’s not sure why Theon is stalling. Is that a bad sign, or a good one? He feels his nerves fraying with every passing second, and cuts straight to the chase.

“Did you speak to my dad about the job?”

“Yeah,” Theon says. He looks straight at Robb, his face giving nothing away. Is that a good sign? Is he trying to build the suspense so when he says he’s staying, the joy will feel all the sweeter?

“And?” Robb asks. He can hear the hope in his own voice.

But then his heart drops into his stomach.

Theon’s face has twisted into kind of a half-smirk, half-grimace. He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Hal Mollen got it,” he says. He takes another sip from the bottle, and Robb just stares. “Deserves it, probably.”

Robb nods, dumbly. It’s the right choice, he recognises, dimly. He likes Hal a lot. He’s not the kind to shirk the boring tasks or abuse his authority. He’ll make a great duty manager.

On any other occasion, Robb would be happy for his friend.

Instead he just feels lost.

“Bit of a stickler,” Theon is saying, “and he has this really annoying habit of stating the obvious, have you noticed that? But he’s very diligent, and I think that’s the kind of quality your dad was looking for.”

They stare at each other over the bar, and Robb doesn’t know what to say.

Theon begins talking again. He’s rolling the bottle between is hand absently. “Your dad says that some of your larger hotels have permanent events staff, and that he’ll keep me in mind if anything like that comes up. But there’s no need for that kind of thing in Winterfell, I suppose.”

“No,” Robb agrees. His stomach feels like it’s in his shoes.

Theon looks away then, just for a moment, looks at the bottle in his hands then back up at Robb’s face. “Well,” he says, “I guess this is it.”

Robb’s hand shakes where it’s resting on top of the bar. “It?” he asks.

“Yeah, you know,” Theon gestures vaguely with the bottle. “This winter has been great,” he says, “but I think we both knew it couldn’t last forever.”

Robb feels sick, misery like a sludge in his belly.

“This is a sign, probably,” Theon says, “a sign that I should quit while I’m ahead. That I should be moving on.”

Robb tries to keep his voice level. “Moving on from Winterfell, or moving on from me?” He is very aware of his heart thumping inside his chest like a dull weight; the tight, strangled feeling in his throat.

“Moving on from - look, Robb, it’s an expression,” Theon responds with some exasperation.

“Yeah, an expression meaning - what, exactly?” There’s a definite sharp edge to his tone now, and Robb hates himself. Theon must have had so many of these conversations in the past, the break up talk, and Robb knows he isn’t holding up very well by comparison to all those other guys and girls. Acting like a demanding, entitled brat isn’t going to make Theon want him more. Isn’t going to make him miss him more. Isn’t going to change anything.

Theon’s hand tightens on the bottle of ginger ale. “Meaning your dad doesn’t like me, and that’s a sign if ever I fucking saw one!”

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you, he just thought Hal would be better at the job!” Robb bit back.

Theon shook his head sharply. “This is about more than the fucking job. Your parents think I’m a waster, they think I ‘lack seriousness’. I’m not _your kind of people_ , and I’m a fool to ever - They don’t want me working in their hotel, let alone -” Theon stops suddenly, and runs a frustrated hand over his forehead. “I should have known better than to get involved with the owner’s family again,” he says then, quieter, as though to himself, “Never turns out well.”

Robb bites back the surge of jealousy he feels at that. He won’t ask; it won’t change anything, and Theon is unlikely to tell him, anyway. He often brags about all the fun he’s had with various friends and lovers in tourist destinations all over the world, but he’s never one to dwell on the downsides of the lifestyle.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Robb says, instead. If nothing else, he wants to be remembered as trustworthy.

Theon looks down at the bottle in his hands then, loosens his grip a little. “I know you didn’t,” he says, “They know anyway.” He looks back up at Robb, anger gone from his face now. “We probably could have been a bit more discreet,” he says, with one corner of his mouth raising in a soft smile.

Robb can’t quite bring himself to smile back, but he lowers his eyes in surrender. He doesn’t want to argue, not when they have such little time left. Theon will be _moving on_ soon. The next coach to town is scheduled for mid-week, and Robb supposes that Theon will be on a plane to warmer climes soon after, Robb and Winterfell left behind in his dust.

Theon’s long fingers slip over Robb’s hand on the bar top. They run up the back of his fingers and caress his knuckles. Then Theon turns Robb’s hand over and cradles it in his own, tracing patterns on the palm of his hand with his thumb.

Robb watches, entranced, heart aching.

“I really have had a wonderful time with you,” Thoen says in a hushed voice. His other hand reaches up and touches Robb gently on the hinge of his jaw. “You… You’re… I…”

“Robb!”

Robb jumps at the sound of his own name, and Theon jerks away quickly. Robb turns to see his father looking at him from the other side of the room.

“You’re supposed to be working,” Ned reprimands, and nods towards the other side of the bar, near the verandah doors. Robb turns and notices with a start that Tanda Stokeworth and Balon Swann are stood there, looking intently at the menus.

“Oh,” Robb says, thrown off-balance. How long have they been there? “Sorry, I didn’t -”

“Oh, don’t mind us!” Calls Balon Swann good-naturedly, brandishing his menu as though to say, still deciding.

“We’re in no great hurry, dear!” Adds Tanda.

“Back to work,” Ned says firmly, then disappears back through the staff door. 

Robb looks back at Theon, who is standing, now. The bottle of ginger ale dangles loosely from his fingers.

“I’ll go and stop distracting you, then,” Theon says, uncharacteristically subdued.

Robb’s head is spinning. He needs time to sort through his thoughts, try and work out where he wants this to go, how he might salvage this thing between them. Once that’s all straight in his head, he’ll talk Theon again. They’ll sort this out, they’ve got to.

“Yeah, I’ll see you, then,” Robb says weakly.

“Yeah,” Theon replies. “See you.”

Robb turns and walks towards his customers, trying to put on a cheerful face. “Sorry to keep you waiting! One more for the road, is it?”

“Really, dear, we’re not in any rush, there’s a good half an hour before the coach leaves, and I’m sure we could always get something at the airport if we needed to,” Tanda says, looking back to where Theon is no doubt making his exit.

But Robb smiles, insists on taking their order, asks them how the snow was that morning.

When he turns to make the coffees, he sees the doors to the lobby, still swinging shut.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 to be posted within the next 48 hours (hopefully within 24, but AO3 will be down for maintainance for a bit, so we'll see). Sorry for the delay!
> 
> If anyone thinks of a title for this, any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! I'm stumped!


End file.
